Kangaroo Island, Shipwrecks and Other Stories

Greetings from the Flinders Ranges, South Australia. We are back in the saddle after a 10 day break from camping and each other. Dennis was off to the Bagwana (an annual event in which a bunch of aging men escape their wives, drink copious quantities of alcohol, oh yes…and play golf) and I hung about Melbourne drinking too much coffee and champagne, spending too much money and getting acupuncture and massage to assuage the damage done. We both enjoyed our break, but it’s quite amazing how nice it was to be “home” in our tent on that first night back. Speaks volumes about the real meaning of “home”.

I should mention that prior to our week apart; we had a week of ‘visitors’ to our little home. Our friends Steph and Bruce travelled with us from Adelaide to Kangaroo Island for 5 days camping. We started our trip with a fabulous lunch at D’Arenburg winery in the McLaren Vale area – the countryside is magnificent here, the food and wine were great and the company even better. My one recommendation if you go to McLaren Vale for lunch is that you don’t combine this with a very rough boat trip to KI – not good for the equilibrium! We found KI a bit disappointing at first, partly because the weather was pretty bad and I think our expectations were pretty high. But as time progressed and the weather improved we found great walks, lovely little isolated beaches, beautiful rock formations, colonies of seals and the pleasures of the Scrabble board. A success: not least because it was so special to be able to share our new life with old friends.
So far the Flinders is glorious – great scenery, great weather. Not sure about getting out of here however, as the Queensland rains are working their way south and flooding the main routes north and with the latest cyclone it’s expected that the water will just keep coming. This could make for some good blogging in the weeks ahead?!

In our travels along the south coast of Australia we’ve learned quite a bit about the explorers who discovered and charted Australia and heard so many stories of shipwreck and adventure. I have found these stories fascinating and before heading toward the Centre I wanted to share them with you. Recognizing that I do tend to be a bit long winded (or “prolific” as Val has dubbed me), I’ve tagged these on at the bottom as a sort of addendum. That way you can choose to skip them without missing out on the main narrative.

So, with the exception of those stories to follow that’s it from me, except for one final word on Australian beaches. I know I’ve raved on for at least the past two blogs about the beach but I have one more thing to add. Did you know that in Australia you cannot legally own the beachfront: it is considered communal land? I’m guessing most Australians know that, but take it for granted. I love that the beach is for everyone here - no fences or walls around expensive resorts, no “private beach keep off” signs. Australian egalitarianism was one of the things that first attracted me to this country and the beautiful beaches we have been visiting are a perfect expression of the very best of Australian culture. Makes me proud to be an Australian!

And now, over to that big bronzed Anzac and great Australian himself, Dennis Moore……

Here we are in Hawker in the middle of the Flinders Ranges in South Australia. So far we have had a number of walks notably Mt Remarkable: 14 Klms and 3 hours later we were back at sea level. The walk was quite scenic and very hot, however overall we both enjoyed it. Next came lunch at one of our new found cafes in Melrose "the old blacksmith's" and a good chat with the owners filling us in on the local gossip. (not much happens in Melrose). Our next adventure was the 4WD up Mt Arden on a private cattle station. This was quite hairy on the way up steep slopes and even more so on the way down, almost the most fun you can have for 4 hours for $50.00.

Seems like "remarkable" is following us around, for on Kangaroo Island there were the Remarkable Rocks a major tourist attraction, Mt Remarkable here in the Flinders and and the Remarkable Mountains in Queenstown New Zealand where we played the Bagwana. Of the “remarkables” my pick is Queenstown and if the editor approves this I will include a photograph of this wonderful town on the South Island. The Bagwana, now in its 22 year, again had the familiars in the field, a total of 12 starters and missing the much maligned book maker Perc for the first time in memory with a crook back.

The golf courses over 4 days were awesome playing on 4 different tracks in a truly magnificent setting. (Note to Stephanie and anyone else, Queenstown is one of the best places that I have ever been to and will be back there again.) This year’s winner was Brendan Kay, or BK as he is known, who performed well and won for the umpteenth time in controversial circumstances from Mike Hall in a sudden death playoff. We all felt for Mike after having been congratulated as the winner.

It really is good to be back on the road. Our last camp site in Warren Gorge was terrific among the birds and perhaps little known Yellow Footed Rock Wallaby that provided a lot of entertainment.

Now we are off to Wilpena Pound for a close up encounter with wildlife and adventure.


COASTLINES AND SHIPWRECKS

Matthew Flinders and Memory Cove

As a segue from the coast to the inland ranges I feel the need to mention Matthew Flinders, whose name keeps cropping up in our travels along the south coast. I suppose the Australians in the audience will have learned all about Flinders at school, but for me his name has only meant a major street and train station in Melbourne. So I was excited to learn that Flinders, at 28 years of age, was the first European to circumnavigate Australia, proving that it was all one landmass and not a series of islands. He is responsible for charting much of the Australian coast and in particular the coast of South Australia where we have just been. He discovered and named Fowler Bay (the beautiful place we stayed at the SA end of the Nullarbor), the Spencer Gulf, Kangaroo Island, Port Lincoln and most of the Eyre Peninsula. Though he didn’t map the Flinders Ranges, where we are currently, he was the first to sail into the Spencer Gulf and catch glimpses of the ranges. It seems such an amazing feat for someone so young and makes us realize how tame our own explorations really are, despite the small adventures.

The humanity of Flinders story was brought home to us in Memory Cove, at the very tip of the Eyre Peninsula. It’s an isolated, wind-swept, rocky peninsula with a stunningly beautiful protected cove. Despite its beauty this was the site of great tragedy for Matthew Flinders. He sent out his first mate (and best friend) with 7 other crew members to look for fresh drinking water. Their cutter was seen returning to the ship, but then suddenly disappeared amongst the waves. Another cutter was sent out to look for them but returned unsuccessful, having themselves nearly capsized due to a terrible rip near the shore. The next morning another search was mounted and the shattered remains of the boat were found, but the bodies of the men were lost for good. Flinders was devastated and later that morning he and the crew conducted a memorial service in the little protected cove. He named the rocky, wind-swept tip of the peninsula Cape Catastrophe, and the peaceful little beach Memory Cove. The nearby islands were named after each of the men who had lost their lives. For visitors such as us there remains a plaque that was left by Flinders to the memory of his lost crew and, no doubt, his own terrible sadness at losing such a close friend.


The Terrible Tale of the Batavia

Matthew Flinders tale of shipwreck and sadness brings to mind another amazing high seas story that we first heard way back in Fremantle. I realize this has no bearing on our current travels, but it sort of got missed due to my own tragedies and it’s such a grand story that I had really wanted to share. Honestly, I can’t figure out how this hasn’t been made into a blockbuster movie. (Of course maybe it has and I wasn’t in the country or was too busy working to notice.)

The story begins with the maiden voyage of the Batavia – a ship of the Dutch East Indies, bound from the Netherlands to Batavia (now Jakarta) with a large contingent of Dutch women and children enroute to meet their “menfolk” on duty in Batavia. From early on in the voyage a couple of baddies are scheming a mutiny, to steal the ship and its cargo of gold and silver and find happiness on some uncharted island. The mutiny never gets off the ground properly, but the mutineers do successfully steer the ship astray, away from the rest of the fleet and eventually toward shipwreck against a reef on Beacon Island off the coast of Western Australia. While there was some loss of life, the majority of passengers and crew manage to struggle ashore onto a small island.

The captain and some of his crew go off in search of fresh water, which is in very short supply on the island. Unsuccessful in finding water, the captain decides to risk an attempt to reach Batavia (Jakarta) and seek help.

Now that the captain has gone, the mutineers (which included the second in command) find themselves unexpectedly and happily in charge. They commandeer all weapons and send off the soldiers who had been left as protection to another island, ostensibly in search of water. The expectation is that water will not be found and eventually the soldiers will die of hunger and thirst. The mutineers then begin to murder anyone they deem to be a threat or an unnecessary drain on limited resources. They become intoxicated with killing and began to look for even the smallest excuse to “drown, bash, strangle or stab to death any of the victims”. At least 110 men, women and children were brutally murdered.

Meanwhile, the soldiers who had been left to die actually did find fresh water and flourished (well flourished might be exaggerating, but they didn’t die, which seems like flourishing under the circumstances). They began to learn about the massacres from survivors who managed to escape. And, of course, the mutineers learned about the fresh water. Eventually the mutineers attacked and a series of battles were fought between the mutineers and the soldiers.

While all of this was going on the captain amazingly made it all the way to Batavia without a single loss of life. He was given a new ship in which to return to rescue the survivors. He showed up right in the middle of one of the fiercest battles between mutineers and soldiers. When the rescue ship was spotted, each side rushed out to try and be first to reach the ship and give the captain their side of the story. Fortunately the soldiers got their first and collectively the soldiers and the rescue crew defeated the mutineers and rescued those who were left. Of the 341 people who set sail from Holland, only 68 survived.

A bit long winded, but don’t you think that’s just the most amazing story? Nothing like that ever happens in Canada!